


one last candle burning low

by jolybird



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Party, Friends to Roommates, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21642802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolybird/pseuds/jolybird
Summary: Marius shouldn’t have come. He really, really shouldn’t have come. But Courfeyrac had gone out and bought him an ugly Hanukkah sweater and Bossuet had begged and Cosette was going to be there so...he went.Now he vaguely wanted to dig a hole in the courtyard, lay down in it and let the mid-December slush bury him until Spring. He didn’t really like holiday parties to begin with (nothing against the holidays being celebrated but December was never kind to him) and this one was at Courfeyrac and Combeferre’s apartment. Emphasis on Combeferre, who hated his guts. Literally once told him he hated his guts.But--thoughts of dramatic showdowns over Joly’s pomegranate salsa aside--so far it was okay, he was staying well out of the way. They hadn’t even made eye contact—Oh no.He had caught his eye.
Relationships: Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	one last candle burning low

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays!! It's officially December which means I can finally start posting all the holiday fics I've been working on (there's a lot; I'm sorry). It's been basically Hallmark movies 24/7 for a month already at my house so it's really nice to send some holiday stories of my own making out into the world for a change. 
> 
> Title is from [Mistletoe](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/57833/mistletoe) by Walter de La Mare.

Marius shouldn’t have come. He really, really shouldn’t have come. But Courfeyrac had gone out and bought him an ugly Hanukkah sweater and Bossuet had begged and Cosette was going to be there so...he went.

Now he vaguely wanted to dig a hole in the courtyard, lay down in it and let the mid-December slush bury him until Spring. He didn’t really like holiday parties to begin with (nothing against the holidays being celebrated but December was never kind to him) and this one was at Courfeyrac and Combeferre’s apartment. Emphasis on Combeferre, who hated his guts. Literally once told him he hated his guts.

But--thoughts of dramatic showdowns over Joly’s pomegranate salsa aside--so far it was okay, he was staying well out of the way. They hadn’t even made eye contact—

Oh no.

He had caught his eye.

Combeferre’s eyes widened just so slightly and Marius suddenly realized he hadn’t even _seen_ him yet. The majority of the party and he hadn’t even noticed him. Why did he have to go and screw it all up and catch his eye? He had made it through every one of their previous interactions without making _that_ much a fool of himself. Throw in the emotional holiday season and he’d tear up for sure this time. _And_ they were in the middle of all their friends--if he and Combeferre fought tonight, it’d ruin the party for Courfeyrac whose poor misguided heart thought two of his best friends would get along--

Combeferre got up with purpose and walked across the room to sit with him. He was decidedly a little past tipsy so Marius held out a chip with salsa peace offering. Combeferre took it and chewed in silence as Marius awaited his reckoning. He hoped Courfeyrac would still say hello to him at the coffee shop.

Combeferre frowned and for a moment he thought he was going to kick him out right on the curb. “Why do you keep turning Courfeyrac down when he offers you our spare room?”

It would be okay, he had made an appearance at the party and could tell the others—wait—why was he bringing up Courfeyrac’s old song and dance routine? “I--don’t want to impose?”

Combeferre shook his head, “Nonsense. I’ll move things around tomorrow. I’m pretty sure there’s an air mattress as well in here somewhere.”

“I don’t want to impose.” Marius said, forcibly this time. He didn’t want to be a bother on any of his friends. He’d get back on his feet on his own and until then he’d make do and survive on his own.

Combeferre rolled his eyes and leaned back with the force of three candy cane shots, “You won’t be. Just keep making the dip you brought to the party and help us around the flat and it’ll be fine.”

The only reason Marius had said no to Courfeyrac the three hundred and seventy eight times he asked was--beyond the cost of renting a three bedroom flat in the 11th arrondissement--because his roommate hated his guts (again, an _actual_ quote). If Combeferre were on board--if he was okay with--no. He was drunk and not thinking rationally. He'd talk some reason into him. “Are you serious? How much for rent?”

Combeferre waved his hand like rent was the least important part of the conversation and not the entire reason Marius was nearly homeless. See? This was the problem. He wasn't thinking. Courfeyrac had probably said something and Combeferre was trying to make him happy. “We’ll work something out in the morning. Don’t worry about it.”

Marius sat in vaguely stunned silence, eating chips to the sound of holiday music until Joly scrambled over, knocking his cane into his leg to snap him out of his daze.

“Are you alright?” Joly whispered.

“He’s invited me to live with them.” Marius whispered back once he saw Combeferre was distracted with cleaning up the salsa mess on the side table by picking out the pear bits and eating them. He didn’t want to upset him by telling him no, but he also didn’t want him to feel like he was under any sort of obligation to follow through with what he said when he was drunk.

“So you say no to everyone else but you say yes to ‘ferre? I see how it is. I better tell Cosette that Courfeyrac isn’t the one she should be jealous of after all.”

Marius inhaled sharply and put his hands over Joly’s mouth. “Do not,” he warned but Joly only laughed. “Cosette’s jealous of Courfeyrac?”

Joly hummed and Marius frowned knowing he wasn't going to say any more. Joly knew exactly how much to say to leave Marius completely baffled. What did he mean by--

Combeferre heaved a sigh and then got up to pour himself a glass of nog.

“Well, he’s one to talk, isn’t he?” Joly frowned.

“Don’t you dare say anything,” Marius hissed even though he was the first to say that it might be easier for everyone if they sometimes meddled in their friend’s love lives. They were all so intelligent but when it came to seeing romance right in front of them--they were oblivious.

“Fine, but you’re coming with me.” Joly frowned but his eyes lit up in a way that said he was getting exactly what he wanted. Marius let Joly drag him off the couch and across the room to where Bossuet and Grantaire were sitting very mischievously and trying not to laugh. Well, at least this would take his mind off of Combeferre. Hopefully he'd forget all about that conversation and that would be the end of it. 

“What is this riot over here?” Joly asked, eyes narrowed.

“‘Chetta’s gone to find a holiday game.” Bossuet told him, patting the seat next to him so that they would come over and sit with them. 

“I don’t like this at all.” Marius said flatly which threw the pair over the edge and they began laughing. Marius and Joly looked to each other, expressionless. Grantaire pulled Marius onto the couch next to him and Joly squeezed his way half on the arm of the couch, half on Bossuet’s lap.

“Are we just waiting for her triumphant return?” Joly asked, messing with a string on Bossuet's sweater. 

“Correct.” Grantaire told him solemnly. 

Marius laughed despite himself and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table. Grantaire immediately kicked his feet off onto the ground, “Combeferre will bury your body in the basement if he catches your grubby feet on his coffee table.”

The color drained from his face and Joly snickered to his right. Courfeyrac’s bedroom door flew open and Musichetta emerged looking a little ragged.

“Um, where did she go for the games?”

“Narnia.” Bossuet said.

“‘Tis the season.” Grantaire shrugged.

Musichetta hurried over to them, glancing to Courfeyrac guiltily several times as she did so.

“What did you _find_?” Grantaire whispered and Marius smacked him right in the chest because of his tone.

“Couldn’t find anything but his old ipod. Luckily for us, he had a holiday playlist titled, and I quote, _ho ho holy shit it’s cold outside baby_.”

Bossuet nodded, “Naturally.”

“Who doesn’t,” Joly agreed. 

Musichetta held her hands, the ipod and the headphones out in front of her as she spoke, “So here’s the game--put it on shuffle and you have until the song ends to have us guess the song, No speaking. Bonus point for artist. No skipping songs no matter what.”

“Musical charades. Nice.” Joly nodded.

“Marius, I think you should go first.”

“Thanks for volunteering, R!” Joly smiled as Marius pushed him to his feet and Musichetta swooped in to put the headphones on him and place the ipod in his hand. She sat down next to Marius all smiles and curled her legs up underneath her. Grantaire looked down to the ipod (“No skipping!” Joly hissed) and then he frowned in thought. He held up three fingers and then held out one hand and mimicked painting his nails.

“Hanson brothers!” Joly shouted and Grantaire beamed at him.

“What the fuck.” Musichetta whispered as Marius just gawked. Grantaire rode the momentum and went right into rocking an invisible guitar and then stopped. He tugged Enjolras over, pulled his blinking Christmas light necklace off and put it on Enjolras instead. He continued his silent, invisible jam session while circling an increasingly bewildered Enjolras.

Oh--this was easy--

“Deck the Halls!” Joly shouted.

“Rocking Around the Christmas Tree?” Marius guess came out as more of a question then he meant it but Joly had gone from absolutely spot on to completely off the mark.

“Yes, Marius!” Grantaire called and tossed the ipod to him. Enjolras rolled his eyes but when Musichetta and Grantaire forced Marius to his feet, he squeezed into his vacant spot with Grantaire.

Marius pressed skip on the ipod and suddenly Britney Spears’ Oops, I Did It Again was playing.

“No skipping.” Bossuet reminded him. Marius frowned, grappling with this absurd dilemma. 

“It’s not a Christmas song.” Enjolras guessed and Marius nodded.

“You can’t play if you cheat.” Grantaire hissed and Marius suddenly remembered dancing to this song with his mother. They were in a too-small flat that overlooked a dock and--well--he didn’t have any other ideas so he might as well see if he remembered their carefully crafted dance routine. The five of his friends on the couch erupted in cheers and applause when he started moving. Bossuet was catcalling from the first sway of his hips and Enjolras was politely clapping with the hint of a smile on his face. There had been a sort of wave or something with their arms as he took too steps to his left? 

It took nearly the entire song but eventually Joly gasped, “Oops, I Did It Again” and nearly fell head first off the couch in his rush to take his turn. Marius laughed as he caught him and then sat back down on the couch, trying to ignore his flushing cheeks.

*

For being in a three bedroom apartment with maybe fifteen people in the flat tops, Marius didn’t bump into Combeferre again until he was running up the stairs after seeing Bossuet, Joly, Grantaire and Musichetta safely away in an uber at half past two in the morning.

The easy thing would be to grab his coat and slip back out the door but Combeferre was laughing as he helped Enjolras into his coat and wrapped a scarf around him. It wasn’t right to leave him to the mess alone. Marius sighed and went to gather the mugs. There were approximately one and a half for each of them, a quarter of them half full which meant Combeferre and Enjolras both had been losing their partially finished coffees and hot cocoas for the entire night. Marius dumped Enjolras’ favorite mug out (the one featuring a group shot of all of them at Grantaire’s sister’s wedding) and proceeded to make a peppermint hot cocoa in it. He bought it back to the living room and handed it to Enjolras who had to turn away sharply as he took a sip.

“Oh, Marius!” Combeferre smiled, as if he thought he had slipped out with Bahorel and Feuilly, “I’m walking Cosette, Éponine and Enjolras home but I’d feel much more comfortable if you went with us.”

“Why didn’t you play shots with us?” Éponine frowned, apparently realizing for the first time he was the only one sober. Well, Enjolras might be but Marius could never tell with him.

Cosette appeared wearing her coat and carrying Marius’. He was a little embarrassed to see the threadbare material in her hands. “For this precise reason. He knows you’re all lightweights.”

“Not all of us mulled vintage wine in the church basement with Sister Made-Me-Question-My-Sexuality.” Éponine rolled her eyes. Cosette shot Éponine a glare so she added, “And literally brewed whiskey to sell!”

“Brewed whiskey.” Marius asked to distract himself from Cosette’s fingers brushing his as she helped him into his coat.

“She’s on her way to implying I was raised by witches.”

“Well, since you brought it up.” Éponine sighed, linking arms with Marius, “did you know she was?”

“Don’t destroy the apartment before they’re back.” Enjolras warned Courfeyrac and-- _oh huh_ \--Bahorel who were playing what looked like a worn out plastic version of Wizard’s Chess.

Marius was unceremoniously ushered out of the house like _he_ was the one six cups of Bossuet’s holiday punch deep and not literally everyone else. How they were all even still standing was beyond him. Bossuet’s punch was dangerous.

“If any of you sing carols I’m going to have to leave you in the cold. I can’t spend Christmas morning in prison again.” Enjolras felt the need to inform them all as he tightened his coat around himself and shivered for the effect of it all.

“None of us are even humming, honey.” Cosette told him gently.

“I can’t have any of you getting any sort of idea. My mother would murder me.”

Combeferre paused on the sidewalk, “which Christmas did you spend behind bars?”

“When I met Grantaire. You know this.”

“You didn’t tell me you met Grantaire on Christmas morning in prison.”

Enjolras began walking at such a pace Marius couldn’t tell if it was because he was just cold or trying to distance himself from telling Combeferre the truth.

“What were you arrested for?” Éponine asked in a tone that said this was the best gossip she'd heard all year. 

“It was Grantaire’s fault but I aggravated the situation but trying to punch a cop.”

“Trying?” she laughed, hurrying to catch up with him. 

“I hit Grantaire instead in the shuffle and--”

“Do you two have a running gag of getting each other novelty ice packs because the pair of you both happen to have collections in your freezers.” Cosette piped up and Enjolras swung around to look at her.

“Huh.” Marius blurted out, he had never realized.

“Cosette, you can walk with me if you’d like.” Enjolras said carefully as they rounded the corner onto his street. He lived two blocks away from Combeferre and Courfeyrac which only emboldened him into treating the entire arrondissement like his own personal apartment. It wasn’t uncommon to see Enjolras shuffling down the street at daybreak clad in slippers and a sweater with a mug of coffee in his hand on his way over for some of Courfeyrac’s famous waffles.

“How many times does Courfeyrac try to reenact the Great Gatsby with you?” Marius asked, they could see each other's flats and on more than one occasion Courfeyrac had summoned Enjolras by shining a high powered flashlight (that he proudly claimed he bought for that exact purpose) into his kitchen window.

Enjolras’ groan as they climbed the stairs was all the answer he needed but he continued on anyway, “enough times that he got a four month girlfriend as a direct result.”

Marius wracked his brain for which one of Courfeyrac’s ex-girlfriends lived in this building but he came up blank. One of the most impressive things about Courfeyrac was his readiness to let people get to know him. He didn’t shy away from putting all of himself on the line.

“Can we sleep over? I bet the sunrise is so pretty from your apartment.” Cosette said, grabbing Marius’s hand to help her up the last couple of steps.

Cosette had the prettiest smile and the softest hands.

Éponine pushed them apart, “we’ve left the children unattended long enough. Can you imagine a solid night unsupervised? Underage drinking, full common room pillow fort--”

“Stop describing our childhood, you’re embarrassing me in front of our friends.”

“Cosette.” Enjolras gasped dramatically, still completely deadpan.

“Courfeyrac’s told me all about your rebellious teenage romance and stealing an estimated fifteen thousand euros worth of assorted alcoholic beverages. The only saint here is Marius.”

"What about Combeferre?” Marius asked in an attempt to save his honor. 

“Mm.” He said and Enjolras opened the door wide to let them all inside.

“There’s a reason Courfeyrac calls him his ride or die.”

“I don’t think we’re thinking of the same reason.”

Cosette gasped as they walked into Enjolras’ apartment, “Oh your flat is absolutely darling.”

Enjolras shrugged, “Bossuet, Joly and Grantaire decorated it for me when I moved in. I was living out of boxes then one day I came home to it looking like this and Joly handed me back my credit card.”

“They _stole_ your credit card?” Cosette laughed. 

Enjolras shrugged like these things happened all the time. Honestly, with this particular group, they kind of did--Courfeyrac had given Marius his card to buy groceries for dinner one night (he had promised to cook) and Combeferre semi-permanently kept Courfeyrac’s debit card in his wallet. Apparently the cash back option was too much temptation.

“Well, it’s lovely and I love it. Can we have a movie night? A cute holiday move-thon. You unlock your door. I’ll bring snacks and decorate and provide the movies and clean.” 

“I can help you know. I’m not going to kick everyone out because I have to make crockpot hot cocoa” Enjolras smiled and poured her a glass of water. She smiled and sipped it as Éponine fixed her makeup and Combeferre said hello to a cat Marius didn’t even know Enjolras had.

“Just because the other cats are doing it, doesn’t mean you should as well.” Combeferre said seriously, holding one of the cat’s paws. The cat chirped back. “That’s a good girl.” Combeferre nodded and then he kissed the top of her head delicately.

“I think you like her more than me.” Enjolras frowned, leaning against his refrigerator. 

“I do.” Combeferre told him.

Cosette turned to Marius, eyes alight, “movie night at Enjolras’! I’ll check everyone schedule and start a poll for the movies. I think we can manage three if they’re not shorts. I’ll be in touch Enjolras!”

Enjolras was making himself a snack in the kitchen now and only nodded.

Éponine clapped her hands, “Okay, Raiponce is safely tucked away in his tower. Let’s get home before the children get the cops called on them again.”

“Again?” Marius asked, tugging at the hem of his shirt. Sometimes it awkwardly rode up because it was a little too small.

“We don’t have time to explain tonight. It started with Gav accidentally almost doxing the entire Paris police department.”

“What.” 

“Yeah, technically he’s still grounded but technically nothing happened and technically no one can prove it was him.” She tugged Marius and Cosette towards the door. “Good night!”

“We’ll talk soon.” Cosette added, catching Marius’ wrist. Enjolras offered them a tight-lipped smile and then Cosette laced her fingers through Marius’. Her hands were really soft.

“Okay, goodnight Firenze, I love you.” Combeferre said pointedly, glancing to Enjolras to make sure he heard as he stood and headed back to the front door. Enjolras muttered under his breath, shaking his head, but he and Combeferre both laughed as Marius, Cosette and Éponine filed out the door.

“He named his cat after the centaur in Harry Potter?”

“Yeah.” Combeferre said in a way that lead Marius to believe the name had been his idea, not Enjolras’.

“Good night.” Enjolras called as Marius went to shut the door behind them and by the time they were on the sidewalk again, his light was out.

“He’s already asleep.” Cosette yawned, “and that sounds like a good idea. Hurry up and let’s get home.” She moved closer to Marius, all but wrapped herself around his arm as she leaned into him.

“How did Gav--” Combeferre began but both Cosette and Éponine shushed him.

“Not out in the open like this.”

Combeferre laughed but Éponine changed the subject to their toy drive with a frightening urgency.

Too soon they were at the front of their building and Cosette was pointed to something on the fire escape. She let go of his hand.

“Thank you for escorting us home.” Cosette smiled, ignoring whoever was now calling down at them from the fire escape.

“That better not be a fucking cigarette Azelma!” Éponine called up, paying no mind at all to how late it was. There was a bit of a shuffle and Éponine swore again and marched up the stairs.

“You’ll come ice skating with us, won’t you?” Cosette asked, taking his hand. “We’re going tomorrow at ten thirty. Please bring the roommates. They can watch Gavroche and Azelma.”

“We’ll be there.” Marius found himself saying but next to him Combeferre was nodding his agreement so at least he wasn’t upset with him for volunteering him.

Cosette kissed his and Combeferre’s cheeks and then she ran after Éponine into the building. There was silence for a moment and then Combeferre asked, “are you going to faint on me?”

Marius glared and started off down the street without him. Combeferre laughed and caught up with him in a handful of steps because, for all the Bambi jokes Marius got about his long legs, Combeferre was taller.

“We all think that if you ask her out, she’ll say yes.” Combeferre said, still laughing but Marius thought he was trying to be sincere. 

“I think that if you ask him out, he’d pin you to the nearest surface right then and there.” Marius told him right back because he deserved it. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Combeferre’s voice was delicate and pitched because he knew exactly what he was talking about but for some reason he was being extremely childish about it.

“Besides, we’re going ice skating tomorrow.” Marius swiftly changed the subject so they didn't have the opportunity to argue. 

“I haven’t been ice skating in years. Promise me that if I fall you won’t laugh.”

“I’m sure Courfeyrac will lay down with you in solidarity while I try to get you back on your feet.”

“Just drag me off by my ankles.” Combeferre sighed, already defeated by the notion of ice skates. 

Marius laughed and looked up at the sky. He loved the city in the cold of winter. The lights glittered and the shop windows promoted kindness and giving instead of just sales. Get these for your mother, get this for your boyfriend, get that for someone who’s not you because it’s important to show people we love that we do love them and don’t take those feelings for granted.

Marius’ mother died during the holiday season. The lights sparkled through her illness and he kept the blanket he made for her when they couldn't afford to go out and buy each other gifts. They had celebrated Hanukkah early that year and she was gone before the calendar caught up. That blanket was at his cousins along with the rest of the things he couldn’t bear to lose. The two didn’t always see eye to eye and he wasn’t always welcome to their house, even to collect his things but they were kept safe and would be kept safe forever there.

Combeferre nudged him out of his thoughts and Marius looked to him, suddenly realizing this was the first time they’d ever actually been alone together.

“How are you feeling?” Marius asked, hopefully distracting him from his sudden melancholy. 

“Drunk, but not as much as Bossuet was.”

“Well, he’s going to be hung over for a week so that’s good you’re not quite as bad as him.”

“I can’t believe Enjolras beat him at pong--twice.”

“There’s a first and second time for everything.”

Combeferre laughed his agreement, “Are you going home for the holidays?”

Marius shook his head, he’d ruin everything if he showed his face at his grandfather’s. If it had just been his cousin and his family, he’d be able to show up without the sky crashing down but Hanukkah would be completely ruined if he got so much as fifty feet from his grandfather’s.

If he was being honest with himself (which he rarely was), he didn’t want to see his grandfather at all anyway. If he had shown his father just the slightest bit of kindness, he might not have died the way he had. His mother too, if his grandfather hadn’t cut her off from her inheritance, she might have been able to afford better treatment and he might not have lost both his parents as he had. But his grandfather had taken him in after his mother died and he had raised him and paid for (most) of his education. He had a complicated relationship with his grandfather and the best thing for him to do was focus on the positive and stay out of his grandfather’s life.

“Courfeyrac’s going home for Christmas Eve and morning but he usually wanders back in by early afternoon. It’ll just be us Christmas morning, Enjolras usually comes over and makes crepes.” Combeferre said as they crossed the street. They were nearly back at the apartment, which was good because Marius was starting to lose feeling in his fingers. He should have borrowed a pair of gloves before they left.

“Joly said I could go to his sister’s for dinner during Hanukkah. Well, he didn’t say _could_ , he said I _was_. They have a big place in the city apparently. I’m sure they’ll welcome you and Courfeyrac for dinner as well. Especially on the 25th.”

“Oh good, Courfeyrac was worried about you. I’ll have to talk to him later, it’d be nice and Gaelle and Yohan are hilarious. Have you ever met them?” They turned the corner and Marius smiled up at the twinkling lights in the windows of Courfeyrac and Combeferre’s flat.

“Is she the youngest?”

“No, that’s Zohra, the astrobiologist in training.”

“I’ve met her, she’s...a lot, honestly. But very nice and extremely smart.” 

“She’s great. Well, I’m exhausted.” Combeferre sighed and held open the door for Marius. He tucked his head and went into the warmth of the building. In silence, the pair climbed the stairs to the apartment that was almost worryingly quiet even though Marius knew perfectly well most of their friends were gone for the night. Only Courfeyrac and Bahorel remained and they looked about half asleep when Combeferre opened the door. He should turn and leave now that he had Combeferre safely home but he couldn’t leave the apartment trashed. Silently, he took the waste bin from the kitchen and started throwing all the trash away. Combeferre vanished hopefully to his bedroom so he could get some sleep. 

How could a party this small possibly make this much of a mess?

Beer Pong. That’s where the glitter had come from. Bossuet had knocked the entire table over doing an interpretive dance to Taylor Swift’s holiday album. To what _might_ have been Taylor Swift’s holiday album. They hadn’t actually gotten a conclusive answer to that.

Marius attempted to brush the glitter off of him but all it did was relocate half an inch to the left. Combeferre emerged from the study and smiled at him. “Mattress is set up for you.”

Marius froze with hands covered in glitter that he was trying to pick up from the floor, “Mattress?”

“In your room.”

Marius smiled kindly, “thank you.”

“Take your shoes off, you’re making Bahorel anxious.” Courfeyrac shouted from the couch and Bahorel made some strange little noise of agreement.

Marius rolled his eyes and took a shoe off to throw at them. Both of them gasped, a picture of outrage. Combeferre laughed as he poured cups out into the sink (more cups! still!).

“Thank you for your help.” Combeferre sighed and Marius kicked Courfeyrac gently. He was sprawled out on the couch, smiling at Bahorel like a weirdo. “Get out of Marius’ way, he’s helping me clean.” 

“Bless you I’m too tired to pick up a single thing. Including myself. Please carry my unconscious body to my bed.” Courfeyrac shut his eyes regally and went to pick his legs up to rest on Bahorel’s shoulders.

“Absolutely not.” Combeferre said as he gently knocked Courfeyrac’s legs back to the ground.

Marius helped him stand anyway and then he gave him a little push to get him started towards his room. He groaned but at least he stayed on his feet and even trudged a little in the right direction.

“Dibs on Courfeyrac’s bed.” Bahorel called, scrambling in slow motion to beat him to his room. Marius caught his elbow as he overbalanced and righted him. Smiling at their retreating forms, Marius finally let his exhaustion catch up with him and he sank into the couch cushions. He had half a mind to shut his eyes and go to sleep right there.

In fact, he did shut his eyes and he didn’t open them until he heard Combeferre laugh from directly in front of him.

Combeferre sat down on the couch next to him and handed Marius a mug of cocoa. “Why’d you never come back to the meetings?”

“I didn’t think I’d be wanted back?”

“What on earth gave you that idea?” Combeferre asked as if he hadn’t been the one who personally came for his entire life. “Of course you’re always welcome. You have great ideas, Marius.”

Marius didn’t know what to say to that ( _you have great ideas, Marius_ was something he would have never thought would ever cross Combeferre’s lips) so he just took a sip of his cocoa. Combeferre nodded like he had checked something off his to-do list.

“Courfeyrac is going to be terrible when he realizes you got a date through his holiday party.”

Marius suppressed the image of Courfeyrac's grin and shook his head, “Let’s just not tell him.”

“Yeah, _alright_ ,” Combeferre laughed under his breath, “but he’s invited as well.”

“He loves the kids, he won’t notice.”

Combeferre sighed the sigh of someone resigned to babysit both actual children and overgrown ones, “well, if we’re going to go ice skating tomorrow, we should probably get to bed.” 

“I think this is as clean as we’re going to get tonight.” Marius agreed and forced himself to his feet. He took their mugs and washed them quickly. Combeferre sighed his way upright behind him and together they walked down the hall.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

Marius raised an eyebrow, “you’re going to put your head down and you’re not going to move for hours.”

Combeferre narrowed his eyes, “that’s true but it’s rude of you to say.”

Marius smiled, “good night.”

“If you need anything you can find it yourself.”

Marius smiled and changed into a pair of Courfeyrac’s pajamas that Combeferre had kindly laid out.

Marius pulled the covers up over his shoulders and let himself pretend for a moment that this was his new home. He pretended that he could put his father’s books up on the shelf and not have to worry about them vanishing in the night. There’d be no more hostels, flats with seven other people, twenty four hour gyms (although he was starting to get a little soft around the middle, maybe he should look into that last one again).

*

Marius was jolted awake by someone kneeling so heavily on the air mattress, he was bounced lightly into the air.

“So I’ve been told to let you sleep but I need you to sign this paperwork.” Courfeyrac said and a pen was shoved into Marius’ line of sight.

Marius took the pen and tried to squint at the papers Courfeyrac was brandishing. “What paperwork?”

“Since you’re paying a bit less on the rent I was thinking you could take one of both our spots on the chore wheel.”

“We don’t have a chore wheel—and let him sleep he was up babysitting you all last night.” Combeferre hissed from the doorway.

The sight of Combeferre awake sent a jolt of dread through him, “What time is it—we have to go ice skating at 10:30.

“It’s only eight.”

Marius flopped back down on the air mattress and sighed.

“We?” Courfeyrac pressed.

“Yeah, we’re meeting Cosette, Éponine, Azelma and Gavroche.”

“Oh.” Courfeyrac beamed and Marius rolled away from him. “I’m forging your signature.”

“If you forge his signature now after how many months, I’m going to kill you.”

“I never said yes.” Marius told his pillow.

“Yes you did.” Combeferre told him quickly.

“You were drunk.”

“I was serious.”

Marius pulled the pillow closer to him, “I don’t think you were.”

Combeferre frowned and sat on the edge of the mattress. Courfeyrac jumped up, nearly knocking Combeferre over onto the floor, and left the room in a hurry. Fucking traitor. Marius was too tired to have this conversation but he had to have it. 

“Why don’t you think I was serious? We’ve been keeping this room clear for you for months now.”

“You don’t even like me.” Marius said, it sounded juvenile saying it out loud but--it was the truth.

Combeferre actually recoiled and scrunched up his nose. He watched Marius for several moments in which Courfeyrac returned with coffee for them. Marius took the mug in both his hands as he propped himself up on his elbows, still lying on his stomach. He took a sip and sent Courfeyrac a withering glare--he hadn’t made them coffee--he was bribing them with mochas. He sat back down next to him, completely unaffected, and nearly bounced Combeferre off the mattress again.

“What did I do to make you think I don’t like you?”

Marius took a sip of his coffee and then became very interested in a pen mark on the sheets. It was orange. Jehan’s preferred ink color. “You told me you hated my guts.”

Courfeyrac laughed and hit Combeferre as he blushed, “when did I say that?”

“The first time we met. When I was talking about how politicians should be allowed to go out for fancy dinners if they have the means.”

“Well.” Combeferre began, tilting his head like maybe he had had a point and then he frowned. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I can get snappish sometimes when I’m frustrated. I--sometimes when people don’t think for themselves and only parrot what other people have told them I get--"

“He gets pissed.” Courfeyrac added helpfully.

“I shouldn’t have said that to you.” Combeferre said seriously, “Even if I completely disagreed with what you were saying. If politicians can’t be bothered to listen to the people and vote down programs that will help those most at risk while they flaunt their wealth--frequently on tax payer--

“If it makes you feel better, he tells Enjolras he wishes he was never born on a weekly basis. And you should hear the mean things he says to me.” Courfeyrac interrupted quickly and Combeferre actually looked a little sheepish in the morning light.

“Prouvaire told me he was sure he was going to perish from longing the other day and I told him to get on with it.” Combeferre said sheepishly, his voice almost a whisper. Marius was so taken aback he laughed and Courfeyrac shook his head.

“Combeferre is terribly mean without meaning to be. You just have to learn there’s no bite behind it.”

“I really am sorry. I should have realized or at least noticed what I said upset you.”

“It’s okay. If we’re really going to be roommates--” At Marius’ words, Courfeyrac pushed the paperwork and pen back into Marius’ hands. “--then we’re both going to have to get to know each other a little better.”

“Deal.” Combeferre said and, because his signature move was to pivot once he had gotten his way, lest he lose the upper hand, continued with, “what do you want for breakfast? I’ll make something. I know you and Courfeyrac both can’t get enough of breakfast foods.”

“Oh just something little--”

“Nutella crepes.” Courfeyrac blurted out.

Combeferre rolled his eyes fondly, “okay. Come on.”

Courfeyrac bounded off the mattress and Combeferre really did get knocked to the floor this time. He picked himself up slowly and followed Courfeyrac back out to the kitchen. Marius frowned and bit his lip as he looked at the lease agreement. Courfeyrac and Combeferre had signed their names so neatly. Marius studied the blank line below their names, the one they had left blank just for him apparently. Apparently they had already spoken with their landlady and she was perfectly willing to accept another tenant. Taking a deep breath to mark the moment, he signed. He flipped through and signed everywhere someone had indicated with little sticky flags. He put the pen down and looked around the room. He could go get his father’s books today if he wanted. He could lay his mother’s blanket on the end of the bed. 

Combeferre appeared in the doorway, “please don’t start planning how you’re going to redecorate without Courfeyrac. He’s planning on getting you something for Hanukkah. Like a bed frame or something equally as ridiculous." Marius just smiled and Combeferre narrowed his eyes. “I’ll drag you into the other room, don’t think won’t.”

Marius laughed and pushed himself up. With all the grace of a baby giraffe, he crawled off the mattress and got to his feet. He wrapped the blankets around him and shuffled out after Combeferre, clutching the mocha tightly. Courfeyrac was busy rummaging around the kitchen absolutely beaming. Marius and Combeferre glanced to each other and smiled.


End file.
